A Very Secretive Christmas
by chelseyb
Summary: Eight couples. Seven secrets. One Christmas Eve. All will be revealed as Harry & company gather for a holiday party. Various pairings, focus changes each chapter.
1. A Very Harry & Tonks Breakfast

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters in this story, nor the universe in which it takes place. It all belongs to JK Rowling. I make no profit from my use.

**Author's Note: **This is my attempt at a Christmas fic. The character listings will change to reflect the most recent chapter, as each chapter focuses on a different couple. Definitely AU, though postwar. Various pairings, including slash. Rating for adult situations. Full of fluff & sophomoric humor.

* * *

><p><strong>A Very Harry &amp; Tonks Breakfast<strong>

"Wakey, wakey."

"I will if you continue," Harry murmured, reaching out for the pink head making her way down his stomach.

Tonks giggled as he grasped a loose handful of locks, her breath warming his thigh. "Good morning, love."

"Mmm ... yes ... it is," Harry gasped as she began to wake him up in earnest. For a few minutes the bedroom was bereft of any noise beyond soft moans and inarticulate words. A quiet that was unfortunately interrupted by a well-meaning house-elf.

"Good morning, Master Harry!"

"Dobby!" Harry burst out, yanking up a sheet to cover himself as Tonks dove under the duvet with a squeak.

"And good morning to Master Harry's Dorie!" the house-elf continued, clearly unaware he had intruded on a private moment. What Harry vaguely thought to be one of Hermione's early woolen hats was perched on his head, and covering his legs were mismatched socks, one plaid, the other a garish orange.

"Dor-_a_, Dobby, Dor-_a_," Tonks intoned in a muffled voice. "Or just go with Tonks."

"Dobby, I told you that you don't have to wake me up, remember?"

"Dobby remembers, sir, but Dobby does not want sir's breakfast to be cold!" The house-elf beamed, and Harry didn't have the heart to scold him. "Will Master Harry and his Dorie be down soon?"

A now-purple head popped into sight. "Breakfast?" Tonks chirped. "Yes, thank you!"

Harry watched Dobby leave the room before falling back onto his bed, pulling Tonks with him. "Do we have to go down? I was enjoying breakfast in bed."

Tonks giggled again, nibbling on his earlobe. "Hmm, I bet you were. But I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"I'm a growing girl."

Harry laughed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear fondly, her hair slowly deepening to blue as she went through her morning routine of choosing a color. "Dora, I'm fairly certain you finished puberty about a decade ago."

"Yes, but I'm a Metamorphmagus. I can keep growing if I like." She stuck out her tongue, and he pushed it back in her mouth. "Besides, maybe I'll grow outward for a change."

"With all you eat, I'm surprised you haven't." After one more languid kiss, Harry slowly stood up, stretching. "Have you seen my pants?"

"Not since I threw them across the room with such enthusiasm last night," she replied, hanging upside down off the bed as she searched for her own clothing. It provided a rather distracting view for Harry. "Since we're on the subject, did you really have to tear my dress?"

"You didn't complain at the time," he retorted, giving up on the search and pulling boxer shorts from a drawer.

"You had just given me my Christmas present. I wasn't going to complain about anything." Half dressed, she sank back onto the duvet with a dreamy smile. "We tell everyone tonight, right?"

"Right," Harry agreed. "Think you can wait that long?"

"No," she freely admitted. "I want to take out a full-page ad in the Daily Prophet or shout it off the rooftops. I'm so happy, Harry."

"So am I." Harry pulled her into his arms for one last nuzzle before starting their day. "Now finish dressing. Dobby'll be heartbroken if we don't have a big family breakfast."

"That elf worships you," she replied. "It's quite adorable."

"I wish you had been there the day I hired him. He cried, positively howled. And now not only do I have clean clothes and warm meals, but I get to enjoy buying the most outlandish socks imaginable on a regular basis."

"I particularly like watching his rivalry with Kreacher. Remember the night they made a least a dozen batches of biscuits, each trying to outdo the other?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah. But Remus says we shouldn't encourage them."

"He needs to lighten up. Remus says a lot, but I only listen to half of it," she countered, tossing one shirt after another out of the wardrobe. "Remus told me he was too old for me for an entire year, when all he needed to say was that he was buggering my cousin."

"Dora!"

"What? It's been years. You sleep across the hall from them."

"I know, and I'm perfectly happy for them, but I don't need such a ... _visual_ reminder," Harry protested, shuddering. "It would be just as awful if you talked about my parents' sex life."

"If they hadn't had one, I wouldn't have you. In fact, it was the 70's. They might have had one with both Sirius and Remus."

Harry clamped his hands over his head while Tonks dissolved in laughter. "La la la, I'm not hearing this."

"I'll stop, I'll stop," she called over his litany, tugging his hands away. "Back to the point, I don't enjoy making a right fool out of myself."

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were still hung up on him."

"But you do know better," she replied, winding her arms around his neck.

"Yes, yes I do," Harry murmured against her lips, his own curving in a smile. Tonks made it abundantly clear just who she preferred to spend her nights with on a regular basis.

Pulling away, Tonks continued. "They still have a nice laugh at me, the prats."

"Well, it's all worked out now. I swear, Dora, if you don't hurry I'll go down without you."

She gave him a mock glare, tugging a jumper over her head. "Since when are you so eager to get me _in_ my clothing?"

"I just want the day to get on. I'm as ready for tonight as you are."

Exchanging what must be called rather sappy smiles, the couple made their way downstairs hand in hand, convenient for when Tonks completely missed one step and would have tumbled to the bottom of the staircase. When they arrived in the kitchen, Sirius and Remus were already seated, both nursing steaming mugs of coffee.

"G'morning," Sirius said sleepily as they fell into chairs on the opposite side of the table.

"Good morning," Harry replied, helping himself to a stack of toast. "Ron and Hermione not down yet?"

"Hermione already left," Remus said. "She had some shopping to do."

"Hermione? Leaving shopping until Christmas Eve?" Harry frowned. "That's not like her."

"Ten Galleons says she's trying to find the right outfit for tonight," Tonks claimed, her eyes gleaming with what she fancied she knew. "Charlie arrives today."

Harry laughed. "You are such a matchmaker. There's nothing between them."

"Yet," Tonks qualified. "They simply haven't admitted it, but I know they want each other." Harry rolled his eyes. "And wouldn't it be fun, two pairs of best friends matched up like that?"

"Well, she didn't say what she was going for," said Remus, offering a plate of sausage to Sirius. "And to answer the other half of your question, Ron hasn't come down yet. I suspect his nose will bring him."

"Luna stayed over last night," Tonks said with an impish grin. "I reckon they'll be sleeping in."

Sirius smirked. "You're one to be talking, here nine mornings out of ten. Why don't you just move in already?"

Tonks shared a secretive grin with Harry before answering. "That's because I can only stand _you_ ninety percent of the time. I need a break. And it's already practically a brothel in here as it is."

Remus choked on his coffee. "Excuse me? A brothel?"

"Well, sure. Hermione's practically a saint lately, but the last man she dated, that Dan bloke, he used to stay over occasionally. I know Neville has brought home girls from time to time. Draco practically had a revolving door when he lived here. You've got you two doing Merlin knows what –" Here Harry dropped his fork and dove under the table to get it, taking his time in the process. "And then you have Ron and Luna. And do you know, she's kind of barmy. I reckon she's into some kinky shit."

Harry yelped under the table as he banged his head. "Dora, what is wrong with you?"

"What?" Tonks protested innocently, for both older men were gaping at her as well. "All I'm saying is, she's very open-minded. And good for Ron."

"She was my student," Remus said faintly. "It's bad enough to see any of you emerge in the mornings, tousle-headed and wearing each other's clothing."

"I've never worn her clothes!" Harry exclaimed hastily. "She steals my shirt, I go get another one of my own shirts."

"I still maintain you'd look fabulous in my skirt. You have very nice legs." Tonks winked at Harry before turning to Sirius. "Sirius, mate, do we have enough mead for the party tonight? Harry invited half the wizarding population of Britain."

"I promise you, Tonks, we have enough to get even Hagrid roaring drunk."

"Which no one will be doing this year, right, Sirius? Tonks?" Remus said sternly. "Let's not have a repeat of last Christmas Eve."

"Do you remember how red Molly turned when you started singing 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs'?" Harry asked reminiscently. "Even Buckbeak would have been scandalized by the lyrics you two and Charlie came up with."

"Ah, it was a good Christmas Eve." Tonks grinned. "At least what I can remember of it."

"This one will be better," Harry said quietly, squeezing her hand under the table.

Sirius eyed them sharply. "What's going on? What do you know?"

"There's something to know? What do _you_ know?" Tonks demanded, brandishing a piece of crispy bacon like a wand. "Tell me."

"Oh no, don't turn this around." Sirius pointed at the both of them while Remus watched over the rim of his mug in amusement. "The two of you are up to something, and I'll have it from one of you."

"You'll 'have it' from one of us?" Tonks repeated, arching her eyebrows. "That's a bit wonky, mate, seeing as I'm your cousin and Harry's your godson, but it's Christmas so if that's what you want ..." She ducked from a flying piece of toast that may or may not have been thrown by her cousin.

"Aren't you supposed to be an adult, Nymphadora?" Sirius chided her, ignoring her withering glare. "An Auror, a mature member of society?"

"No one ever told me that," she replied cheekily, returning to her eggs.

Remus and Harry laughed. Holiday or not, it was a normal mealtime scene at 12 Grimmauld Place: the two Blacks needling each other while their partners watched, sometimes egging them on, usually accompanied by another member of the household. No matter how exasperated Harry got at the pair, he loved it. They, along with his other roommates, were his family.

"I rue the day I let you corrupt my godson," Sirius complained, doing his best to send her dark looks.

"Sirius, it's time I let you in on a secret: he's the one who did the corrupting. I'm all talk. Harry's _crazy_ in –"

"And that's my exit cue," Harry interjected, walking away hurriedly while Sirius began to interrogate Tonks on why she thought anyone needed that information. He bumped into Ron on the kitchen stairs. "Finally. You've never missed a meal."

"Just tired, I reckon. Hey, um, everyone's coming tonight, right? No one canceled?"

"Yeah, as far as I know."

"And you invited Luna's dad, right?"

"Yes." Harry stared at his friend in confusion. "Ron, what's going on?"

"I just want to make sure it goes well," Ron said seriously. "Luna loves Christmas."

"And where is Luna?" Tonks appeared behind Harry, sliding her arms around his waist.

"She'll be down soon," Ron said, avoiding their eyes. "I'm going to eat, see you later."

"So did Sirius kick you out?" Harry asked Tonks, throwing an arm over her shoulders as they trudged upstairs.

"No, he's pouting because I won't tell him our secret." Tonks sighed impatiently. "Harry, I can't wait for the party."

He kissed her head. "Soon enough. Tonight, love."

"Tonight."


	2. A Very Ron & Luna Tree Trimming

**A Very Ron & Luna Tree Trimming  
><strong>

"She has boundary issues," Ron heard Sirius grouse to Remus as he entered the kitchen.

"Boundary issues?"

"Yes. And by that I mean, she has none."

"Good morning, Ron," Remus said when he noticed the redhead.

"Morning, Remus, Sirius. Tonks again?" he guessed from experience.

"Who else?" Remus said wryly. "You missed quite the conversation."

"Luna and I were up late," said Ron, wondering why Remus nearly spat out his coffee and Sirius started laughing. "Ah, coffee. Thanks, Kreacher."

The elderly house-elf cast a malevolent look at Ron as he shuffled out of sight. Though under strict orders by Sirius to not only serve the entire household but also to refrain from insults, the elf satisfied himself with glares and silent mutters. If looks could kill, mused Ron, all would have been dead long ago, including Sirius. Ron wasn't sure what was worse – Kreacher's hatred or Dobby's hero-worship of Harry. That house-elf was as bad as Ginny had been her first year, with much less embarrassment about showing it.

Sirius and Remus were leaving by the time Luna arrived.

"Luna, I was hoping you could help decorate for the party," Remus said after the morning pleasantries were exchanged. "You have such unique taste."

"Of course," Luna agreed, smiling with pleasure. "You didn't get mistletoe, did you? Nargles are known to infest mistletoe."

"We wouldn't want that," Sirius said gravely.

"No, it's likely they would steal the presents from under the tree."

"That would be terrible," Sirius continued, his eyes twinkling.

"Sirius," Ron said warningly. He hated it when they went along with Luna's crazy ideas. Luna might think they truly agreed with her, but Ron knew they were just taking the piss.

"It's alright, Ronald. I know Sirius is just teasing me," Luna interjected, demonstrating once again not only her perceptiveness but her capacity for tolerance.

"And I only tease those I care about," Sirius said with a deep bow. "I'll leave you to it."

"Luna, I wish you wouldn't let him have a go at you. You know he doesn't believe in Nargles."

"I don't need you to protect me, Ron. Just because he doesn't believe in them doesn't mean they don't exist," she said serenely, taking a bite of toast. "And it's better to be safe than sorry. I don't want the Christmas presents to be stolen."

"Right, right," Ron muttered, humoring her. She knew he didn't go along with all her ideas, but she never seemed to mind.

"I have your present, by the way," Luna said suddenly. "Do you want to wait until tomorrow with everyone else, or exchange them privately?"

"Our Christmas presents?" Ron said, his voice higher than normal. He cleared his throat. "We, uh, we can wait. For later. If – if that's okay."

"Are you alright, Ronald?" Luna frowned, smoothing his hair. "Is it Wrackspurts? I didn't feel any."

"No, no Wrackspurts. I, er, I had a dash of Gurdyroot infusion in my pumpkin juice this morning to ward them off."

"Gurdyroots ward off Gulping Plimpies, not Wrackspurts. Remember?" she said patiently.

"Oh yeah, sorry. I'm just distracted. Maybe it is Wrackspurts." He rose so quickly his chair fell over, and he hastened to pick it up. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Ron?"

"Yeah, Luna?"

She smiled. "Whatever is bothering you, just know I love you."

Ron smiled in return, filled with warmth as his nerves melted away. "I love you, too."

When Ron finished his shower, he meandered downstairs, following voices to the drawing room. Luna and Tonks were decorating the room, draping it with streamers and evergreen. Harry sat on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"A show on, mate?" Ron asked, dropping next to Harry and grabbing a handful of the snack.

"Technically, I'm supposed to be stringing the popcorn to go on the tree," Harry replied, not taking his eyes off the girls. "But just listen."

"Luna," Tonks was saying as she waved her wand at the tree, levitating baubles. "I work at the Ministry, have for years. There's no such thing as the Rotfang Conspiracy. I have perfect gums."

"Of course you do," Luna explained. "You're an Auror. They're behind it."

"We are not!" Tonks declared indignantly. "Kingsley's great. I have no wish to overthrow him."

"Of course you don't," Luna continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "You can't see it because you're inside the conspiracy."

Tonks's mouth worked several times as she tried to come up with an argument, finally shaking her head in resignation. The corner of Ron's mouth twitched; one of the things he most liked about Luna was that she was so steadfast in her beliefs, no matter how odd. And yet somehow it never came out as intolerance.

Harry leaned over to Ron. "Remind me to have Dora, Luna, and Hermione sit together at dinner tonight," he said quietly.

"Always good value," Ron replied, stifling a laugh.

"Did you paint these, Luna?" Tonks asked interestedly, apparently having given up on the Rotfang Conspiracy. She held up a bauble. "They're lovely."

"Yes, there's one for everyone."

Exchanging a curious glance with Harry, Ron walked to the tree. He was startled to see his own face smiling at him from a green bauble. As she said, Luna had painted one for each person in the entire clan, from Ginny to Kingsley to Hagrid. He even spotted the two house-elves.

"They're great," Ron agreed, sliding his arms around Luna's waist. "I wouldn't let Kreacher see his, though. He'll take it as an insult somehow."

Tonks laughed as she waved her wand one final time, sprinkling tinsel over the towering evergreen. "There, I think it's done. And now for –" She snuck a glance at Luna before casually walking over to the doorway and fastening something above it.

"Tonks, I told you that wasn't a good idea," Luna said. "It's infested with –"

"Nargles, I know, I know," Tonks muttered, rolling her eyes. "But it's Fred and George's special mistletoe that traps you until you kiss, so I reckon the Nargles can't go anywhere." She pointed her wand at the plant with a flash of light. "See? Once the spell is activated, it –" She tried to move her feet, which were firmly stuck to the floor. "Oh. Oh, bugger me."

Ron and Harry started laughing. "This is what you get for not taking Nargles seriously," Harry said, ignoring his girlfriend's dirty look.

"It's the Revenge of the Nargles!" remarked Ron between guffaws. Even Luna was laughing in that soft, delighted way Ron loved.

"Harry, come on, love, help a girl out," Tonks pleaded, attempting to look seductive and failing. "I'll make it worth your while."

He held up his hands. "Sorry, no can do. I think you'll have to get yourself out of this one."

"What's so funny?" Sirius slid past Tonks in the doorway, taking in her predicament in one glance.

"Sirius! Sirius, be a dear and give me a kiss."

"Sorry, if I remember correctly, 'that's a bit wonky, mate, seeing as I'm your cousin,'" he retorted with a smirk.

"I hate you all!" Tonks declared.

"Someone has to do it." And with that, Luna walked up to the Metamorphmagus, took her head in her hands, and kissed her square on the mouth, to the open-mouthed awe of all three men. When she pulled away, she smiled. "Cherry?"

"Er, yeah. Thanks." Looking both amused and bemused, Tonks glanced at Harry. "I _told_ you."

"Told him what?" Ron questioned, looking at the pair.

"Oh, nothing," Tonks replied in a sing-song voice, following Harry to the sofa and perching on his lap with an affectionate "git."

"Now that Nymphadora has been rescued, I remember what I came in here for," said Sirius. "Did you get any of those cream-filled chocolates that we had last year? Remus liked them."

"I bet he liked your cream-filled -" began Tonks before Harry clamped his hand over her mouth.

"No, I didn't," he said, giving Tonks a quelling look.

"I remember them," said Luna, who had returned to decorating the mantle over the fireplace like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. "I quite enjoyed them as well."

"I'll go get some!" Ron volunteered hastily.

"You don't have to do that," said Sirius.

"No, no, I need to get out anyway, get some fresh air. This day's going slower than my old Shooting Star. And I want tonight to be perfect."

"It will be," Tonks and Harry said in unison, sharing a mysterious smile.

"Someone better tell me what's happening tonight and why perfection is so important," Sirius proclaimed, for some reason glaring at Tonks. "It's my house, and I demand to know." He was thoroughly ignored by all parties.

"I'll be back soon," Ron told Luna with a kiss. He licked his lips as he headed out. _Mmm, cherry_, he thought, then was immediately weirded out by the fact that he had just tasted his best mate's girlfriend's lip gloss on his own girlfriend's lips.

"Hey, Ron!" Ron turned at the low whisper to find Sirius following him with a shifty look. "Pick up some canary creams for me, will you? Keep the change." He offered a handful of golden coins.

"WWW isn't open today."

"Yes, but I'm sure Fred and George are home. They'll let you in." When Ron shrugged, Sirius grinned. "And don't tell Tonks."

Ron enjoyed walking in the cold, brisk air. It cleared his jumbled head and dried his sweaty palms. He hadn't been this nervous about anything since his days of playing Quidditch at Hogwarts. Even though, or perhaps because, it was Christmas Eve, Diagon Alley was packed, and it took some time for Ron to get the sweets and make his way to Fred and George's flat above their shop.

He had to ring the doorbell three times before Fred opened up, clad only in a bathrobe. "What do you want?" his older brother asked bluntly.

"I need in the shop. Sirius wants some canary creams."

Fred stared at him, blinking. "Why didn't you just buzz us on the Floo? No need to come over."

"Do you remember the last time I Floo'd unannounced? She was my Quidditch captain, mate!" Fred grinned reminiscently, and Ron brushed at his hair in agitation, trying to cancel the memories. "And I was out anyway."

"Shopping on Christmas Eve? What'd you do to get stuck with that?"

"Nothing! Can I just get the bloody candies and go?"

"Calm down, little bro. No need to mess your pants." Fred closed the door and led Ron downstairs.

"Fred, listen. Can you and George try to behave tonight?"

"Why, yes, Mum, of course. We'll be right angels," Fred said sarcastically.

Ron grabbed his arm. "I'm serious."

Fred shook him off. "Sod off." Then he relaxed. "As it so happens, George and I already planned for a low-key evening."

"You and George? Low-key?" Ron repeated uneasily. The last thing he wanted was one of his brothers' pranks. "What's going on?"

"You'll find out tonight, little bro," Fred said, clapping him on the shoulder and handing him his change.

Despite his misgivings, Ron couldn't help but agree with his brother as he followed him back upstairs to leave. Indeed, everyone would find out tonight.


	3. A Very Fred & George Naptime

**A Very Fred and George Naptime**

Fred shuffled back into his flat, wondering what had his little brother all worked up. Something regarding Luna, no doubt, though he had no idea as to what. He never knew with Luna. Maybe she wanted a heliopath for Christmas or something impossible like that.

"What did Ron want?" George asked, stretched out on the sofa with his feet in Katie's lap. It was a very late morning at the Weasley and Weasley flat.

"Canary creams," Fred replied.

"Canary creams? And he had to have them now?"

"Apparently."

"Why didn't he just Floo?" Katie asked.

"He wants to protect his virgin eyes," Fred explained, sharing a wicked grin with Angelina as he leaned on the back of her chair.

"Huh?"

"Last time Ron Floo'd in, he saw Fred and Angelina doing the hokey cokey," volunteered George.

"What?"

Fred chimed in. "Chasing the Golden Snitch."

"Rocking the Casbah."

"Dancing the horizontal mambo."

"Practicing my wandwork."

"Inserting tab A into slot B. Or C, if you're into that."

"Playing hide the sausage."

"Getting a tune up."

"Oh honestly!" Angelina snapped, swatting at Fred playfully. "Katie, we were having sex on the sofa."

"This sofa?" Katie screeched, jumping up. "Angelina!"

"Well, I used a cleansing charm afterward. And besides, I know you and George shagged on the kitchen table," retorted Angelina.

George decided this was his time to leave. He had taken all of three steps when Katie's voice stopped him in his tracks. "George Weasley!"

George turned around with what he hoped was an appropriately remorseful yet charming smile. "Sweetheart, it's very unattractive when you channel my mum."

"It's very unattractive when you tell your brother about our ... intimate life."

"But we share everything," George said with an injured look.

"We'd share more if you two would let us," Fred spoke up. "What d'ya say, girls? You up for it?" He wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

"Yeah, I always wondered what you lot got up to in the girls' Quidditch locker rooms," said George. "Reckon we should give Alicia a ring, see if she's interested in a little reunion?"

"No!" they said in unison, though both smiled, for it was an old joke.

"And that's why this –" Angelina waved her hands around the flat. "- situation is not working."

"Well, we're fixing that, aren't we?" Fred said in a rather grumpy voice.

The girls exchanged a look while each reached out to caress her respective boyfriend, then Katie rose. "Why don't we eat something?"

"Breakfast! Excellent!" said Fred.

"I'm starving," agreed his twin.

"Uh, boys?" Katie pointed at the clock. "It's nearly noon. I think we missed breakfast."

"Lunch! Excellent!" said George.

"I'm starving," agreed his twin.

Laughing, both girls headed for the kitchen. Fred made to follow, but George called him back. "Alright, Freddie?"

"Yeah." Fred looked around the sitting room, which was covered in half-full boxes. "Alright, Georgie?"

"Yeah," George replied. "Be weird, won't it?"

"We lived in the same room for eighteen years, and even now, we're only across the hall," said Fred.

George grinned. "It's probably a good thing that we took separate bedrooms. The girls tolerate a lot, but I think even they would balk at a set of bunk beds."

"True. I reckon that's one good thing about this. No more uncomfortable encounters."

"Or forgotten silencing charms."

"Returning the wrong knickers to your girl."

"Awkward mornings with your brother's girlfriend when both he and your own haven't woken up yet."

"Bare arses."

"Well, I wouldn't mind if it was always hers," said George puckishly.

"Watch it, brother," Fred warned. Then he grinned. "You ever wonder imagine what it would be like if the pairs were switched?"

"Me and Angelina?" pondered George for a moment before laughing. "No, it would never work."

"Neither would me and Katie," agreed Fred. "And that's good, because I happen to enjoy Angelina."

George gaped exaggeratedly. "What's this, oh brother of mine? Could it be? Are you possibly ... in _love_?"

"As much as you are with Katie," Fred retorted. "We wouldn't be doing this if we weren't, would we?"

"Not a chance, brother."

"Fred? George?" Angelina called from the kitchen. "Food's ready!"

"Coming!"

"Or we will be if dessert's good enough!"

After lunch, each couple retired to their respective bedrooms, ostensibly to pack. Dessert was entirely optional. It was early afternoon by the time they reunited in the living room.

"I should go," Angelina said reluctantly, glancing at the clock. "I want to have plenty of time to get ready for the party tonight."

"It's going to go well, isn't it?" Katie said anxiously, fidgeting. "With your mum, I mean. She can be a bit ... overbearing."

"Not our mother?" Fred mocked.

"Are we talking about the same Molly Weasley?" asked George, frowning, though he pulled Katie in his lap. "Short, redheaded woman?"

"Why, she's quiet, unobtrusive, meek, and totally nonjudgmental," Fred said with a wicked grin.

"Not overbearing in the slightest," George agreed.

"George ..." Katie's brown eyes looked anxious, and George relented.

"She'll be fine," George assured her, kissing her blonde hair and nodding at Angelina. "Mum quite likes both of you, and in the end, that's all that matters. Just ask Bill."

"If she knows we're truly happy, she'll get over any unconventional living arrangements," added Fred. "And just be grateful she's never come by unannounced at the wrong time. You think Ron was bad ... you ever see Mum look like she swallowed an entire beaker of swelling solution? Just ask Charlie."

"Or Tonks. Just make sure she doesn't have her mouth full at the time." Both twins sniggered.

"She'll be fine, Katie," Angelina told her old teammate confidently. "It's not exactly earth-shattering news, is it? I'm sure she knows we stay over. And out of all the Weasley boys, she probably dropped her ideas of innocence the earliest with these two."

Katie laughed. "I'm sure you're right. I don't think Fred and George have been innocent since they graduated from nappies."

Fred put a hand over his heart. "Oh, you wound me. George and I were innocent until we graduated from rompers."

"And if all else fails, Ron's got something going on tonight, too. I'm sure we can count on him mucking it up."

"George, be nice."

"What? It's true. My little brother has all the suaveness and grace of Tonks on ice."

Laughing, Angelina headed for the fireplace, begging off from Fred's continued kisses, claiming she really had things to do before the party. Katie followed a few minutes later, extracting a promise from George to be on time to pick her up. Left alone, the twins glanced at each other and the mess around them before shrugging and collapsing on opposite sofas.

"We should really get some packing done," remarked Fred.

George agreed with a grunt. Closing his eyes, he waved his wand absently, and a minor explosion sounded from the kitchen. Used to such random occurrences, neither twin so much as blinked. "Reckon that was the new Knockback Knockers or the Disintegrating Dainties?"

"Self-Propelling Custard Pie," Fred guessed.

"Five Sickles to the winner?"

"You're on, brother."

Both twins settled in for a nap, which was really the only logical thing to do after a short day comprised of doing nothing, particularly when the evening's activities promised to be nothing less than chaotic, as any gathering of the Weasley family/Order of the Phoenix/Dumbledore's Army/various hangers-on always was. They had just dozed off when the Floo flared to life again. Assuming one of the girls had forgotten something, neither Weasley moved until a voice, decidedly deeper than either Angelina or Katie yet familiar, roused them.

"Hard at work, I see?"

"Charlie!" the twins roared in sync, trying to hug their older brother at the same time. The twins had always been close with Charlie, who was more appreciative of their tendency for pranks than the rest of the Weasleys, and his visits were always a cause for celebration.

"Alright, Fred? George?" Charlie hugged his brothers tightly, pounding their backs so hard Fred stumbled.

"Charlie, the girls aren't here. You don't have to show off," he complained, rubbing his shoulder.

"Oh, well, in that case ..." Charlie released his brothers, scratched his stomach, belched, and grinned.

"And Mum wonders why you're still single," George remarked. "What are you doing here? Thought you were staying with Mum and Dad."

"I am," he replied, dropping a gigantic duffle bag on the floor. "I need to do some shopping, so I figured this was as good a place as any to arrive."

Fred exchanged a knowing glance with George. "Typical Charlie, leaving it until the last minute."

"Try to be a bit more inventive than you were last year, eh, big bro?" said George. "As much as we appreciate the business, I don't think the entire family wants WWW products again."

"Sod off, I only have one present left. It's important, and Romania doesn't exactly have a Bond Street, " Charlie growled, making himself at home as he headed into the kitchen and began making a sandwich. "Why is there custard everywhere?"

With a satisfied smirk, Fred held out his hand. "Five Sickles, please."

Grumbling, George handed over the silver coins before following Charlie into the kitchen, where he cleaned the mess with a wave of his wand. "One present left? Important, you say? Whoever could it be for?"

"Our dear old mum?" Fred teased.

"Perhaps Harry, savior of the wizarding world that he is?"

"Everyone's favorite Veela sister-in-law?"

George held up a hand. "Or could it possibly be a certain friend of our little brother?"

"The intelligent –"

"- bushy-haired –"

"- yet still lovely –"

"Miss Hermione Granger?" they finished together.

Charlie pointed a warning finger at each of them in turn. "Oi! One more word about Hermione and I'll turn the pair of you into turtledove ornaments and give them to Mum."

"Touchy, touchy."

"Lovely to see you too, brother," Fred muttered.

Ignoring them, Charlie wound his way around the boxes that cluttered the floor to the table. "Why are there boxes all over the floor? What's going on here?"

"Tell us who the gift is for and we'll let you in on a secret," George proposed.

Charlie shook his head, a bit of ham flying from the corner of his mouth. "You can find out at the party tonight," he said thickly.

Fred smiled smugly. "Then you can find out tonight, too."


	4. A Very Charlie & Hermione Shopping Trip

**A Very Charlie & Hermione Shopping Trip**

Charlie took one last look around the twins' messy flat. Given that their living space had never been anything less than chaotic (or dangerous) for as long as Charlie could remember, the boxes all around weren't exactly out of the ordinary, but he knew something was going on. He questioned the twins once more, but they were evasive. Shrugging, for Charlie knew from experience that it was best not to pry too deeply into the inner workings of Fred and George Weasley, he promised to see his little brothers at the evening's party and took his leave.

Shouldering his duffle and wondering how Muggles got along without featherweight charms, he headed out into Diagon Alley, which was unexpectedly busy for Christmas Eve. Or perhaps it should have been expected, last shopping day before Christmas and all.

Charlie came to a stop outside Eeylops Owl Emporium. He suddenly realized he had absolutely no idea where he was headed or what he wanted to buy. Charlie didn't normally spend too much time on presents; he had a set gift for everyone in his family. Dad? Some Muggle contraption. Mum? Jewelry. Bill? Cologne. Percy? A book. The twins? Zonko's products. Ron? Sweets. Ginny? Perfume. Harry? Something Quidditch related. Tonks? A gag gift.

But this had to be special. Buying a small bag of roasted chestnuts from a stall, Charlie began to wander down the street and contemplate his present. It had to say something, but what?

_I've been in love with you since we were forced to kiss under the mistletoe last year._ No, that was coming on a bit strong.

_Your lips tasted like strawberries and I've been dreaming about tasting that again since last Christmas._ No, that was coming on a bit creepy.

_I want to rip your jumper off and see if there's a wild animal underneath that calm, intelligent exterior._ That went right past strong and creepy and ran straight into degenerate wanker territory.

Charlie shook his head, frustrated with himself. He'd been a bit of a ladies' man at Hogwarts, but that generally hadn't gone past getting the girl into a secluded broom closet. And his years on a Romanian dragon reserve hadn't exactly polished him. Bill had always been the smooth one with the romance and silver tongue.

He pulled out a chestnut and contemplated it before popping it into his mouth. "I would really like to take you out and learn all about you and kiss you at the end of the night."

"You'll have to let me know if she says yes."

Charlie whirled around, chestnut still in hand, to find a smiling Hermione Granger standing behind him. "Hermione," he said, startled and more than a little embarrassed to have been caught making advances on a snack. "How are you?"

Hermione reached up rather hesitantly and gave him an awkward hug. "I'm fine. And you? When did you get here?"

"I'm good," he replied. "And just now, really. I still have something to buy so I came here before going to the Burrow."

"Oh? Did you forget someone?"

"Forget? No, not at all. Just, um, I couldn't get what I wanted in Romania. It's important."

"Oh, for your mother, or ... someone else special?"

"Ye-es," Charlie said slowly, dragging out the word as he thought of how to avoid answering. "I only buy presents for those I care about." He nodded at the bag in her hand. "I see I'm not the only one who left it until the last minute."

Hermione glanced at her bag then, strangely, swung it behind her body. "Oh, this?" she said in a rather high voice. "It's nothing. I just forgot something we needed for the party tonight. You'll be there, right?"

"I wouldn't miss y-, er, it," he assured her, and he was gratified to see her cheeks turn pink. "What was so important that the party couldn't just go without?"

"It really is nothing special," she repeated. "You'll see tonight, I'm sure."

"Reckon I will." He cast about for something else to say, clenching the bag in his hand. "Um, would you like to try my nuts?"

Hermione's brown eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Chestnuts! Roasted chestnuts," he amended quickly, smothering the refrain of _stupid stupid stupid_ in his head. Charlie held out the bag, and she accepted one. As she chewed, she tucked a stray curl behind her ear only to have it spring free instantly, and when she absently repeated the gesture, he couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" she questioned, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I think you're fighting a losing battle," he said, pointing. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed back her hair with his free hand.

Hermione blushed again, very prettily, and he held her gaze. Charlie cleared his throat and was about to speak when she suddenly took a step backward. "Look at me, holding you up here in the middle of Diagon Alley when you've just traveled across a continent. You don't even have a bag, you still have shopping to do, and I'm sure you're ready to see your mum and rest before the party."

Charlie's head spun a bit at her rapid speech, delivered without taking a single breath. "Yeah, I'm sure I smell like a rank dragon," he joked, and immediately wanted to sink into the ground. _Because making jokes about your reptilian odor is a sure way to get the attention of a pretty girl._

"Oh ... yes – I mean, no, I'm sure – I'm just going to go," she stammered. "I'll see you at the party, Charlie."

"Nice to see you again, Hermione!" he called after her retreating figure. "See you tonight!"

**oOo**

It was all Hermione could do to keep from smacking herself on the head as she walked away from Charlie. She couldn't even say goodbye like a normal woman. No, she had to first ramble and then stammer like a teenage girl. At least she hadn't giggled incessantly. She hadn't been able to stand that sort of vapid laughter since Lavender Brown giggled her way through their sixth year.

Of all the people for her to run into in Diagon Alley on Christmas Eve, it _would_ be Charlie Weasley. And what was he up to anyway? Despite her earlier rant, here Hermione did giggle a bit, for apparently what Charlie was up to was attempting to establish a relationship with a chestnut, albeit a very lovely chestnut, nice and roasted. And tasty.

Shaking her head, Hermione looked at the bag in her hand, wondering if it was appropriate. She didn't want to give the wrong impression, but on the flip side she did want to give the right impression. There was a line somewhere. Hermione just hoped she was on the side she wanted. But not too far. Not like the impression she would give, say, Neville or Harry.

Hermione actually huffed aloud. She hated being like this. She was Hermione Granger – cool, collected, and utterly unconcerned with what impression she gave any men. Even a certain man. And with that she headed on her way back to the Leaky Cauldron so she could return to Grimmauld Place. However, as she passed Madam Malkin's, Hermione caught sight of another familiar head of red hair, just as she had earlier but this one with hair long and straight, not thick and curly. "Ginny?" she called.

The youngest Weasley whirled around, her face a clear expression of someone caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She froze for a moment before visibly relaxing her features and hurrying to Hermione's side. "Hi, Hermione!"

"Hello, Ginny," she replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping," the younger girl said immediately. Too quickly. "What about you?"

"The same." Hermione held up her bag. Something in Ginny's manner was off, but Hermione had her own preoccupations. She saw no need to pry. "You know, I just left your brother."

"Which one?"

"Oh, right. Charlie." Hermione glanced at her nails and tried to look unconcerned, but she caught a glimpse of the knowing smile that spread across Ginny's face.

"Charlie? Whatever were you doing with him?" Ginny teased.

Hermione forced away a flush. "Nothing! We just ran into each other."

"Imagine that, you of all people running into him. Drawn like a magnet, I suppose. I can't wait to see him. How is my dear brother?"

"He's perfectly fine."

"So you think my brother is 'fine'?" Ginny pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Yes, I think if I look at him objectively I can agree he has certain features that may cause women to see him as 'fine.' He is _my_ brother, after all. Perhaps good looks run in the family."

"Ginny!" Hermione protested. "You know that's not what I meant."

"No, Hermione, I think you don't know that is what you meant, but I'll leave it. For now. What's he doing in Diagon Alley?"

"He said he had some last minute shopping to do as well."

"Lot of that going on today," Ginny said. She pointed at the bag. "What did you get?"

"Oh nothing," Hermione said quickly, surreptitiously shifting the bag so the logo was obscured. "By the way, do you know if Draco is coming tonight?"

"What? No. I have no idea. Why would I know that?"

Hermione concealed a smile. "No reason. Seems that he never told Harry if he was attending the party or not, so I was just curious if anyone's seen him lately."

Ginny shook her head, running a hand through her long hair. "No, sorry. I haven't a clue. Not at all." She glanced at Hermione's bag again. "Hermione, what's so special about whatever you bought?"

"Nothing!" Hermione insisted. "I should get back, I promised to help decorate. Bye, Ginny. See you tonight."


	5. A Very Draco & Ginny Afternoon

**Author's Note: **Just FYI, in this universe Draco did not lead to Dumbledore's death.

* * *

><p><strong>A Very Draco &amp; Ginny Afternoon<strong>

Ginny watched Hermione until she was out of sight. The older witch was clearly preoccupied (and clearly besotted with Ginny's older brother, even if she wouldn't admit it), but she wanted to be on the safe side. Hermione of all people would be discreet, but Ginny preferred no one knew until she was ready.

She made her way down Diagon Alley with ease, slipping through the crowd until she reached a certain set of upscale flats above a row of shops. Ginny headed for the door marked 3E and knocked.

After a few seconds the door swung open, and a pair of strong yet slim arms pulled her inside so forcefully she caught her breath. Before she regained it, thin lips were on hers, kissing with increasing passion. They stumbled backward, kissing and groping, until suddenly they fell horizontal, the cold leather of a sofa beneath her. Ginny was dizzy by the time they parted, lips chapped and swollen, hair mussed, face flushed, chest rising with rapid breaths.

"Nice to see you, too," she said, standing up and straightening her blouse. "You act like I wasn't here just last night."

The blond wizard was fixing his hair with equal fastidiousness, smoothing each piece that dared stick out. "I'm not used to waking up alone."

"I have to go home some time," she said. "I pay good money for that place."

"Tell me, where do those teammates of yours think you spend half your nights?" Draco asked with amusement.

"The Burrow, Grimmauld Place, a different bed every night, I don't know," she replied. "I'm hardly the only one whose bed is still made in the morning. No one cares."

"No one but your family," he reminded her, sliding an arm around her shoulder as she sat next to him. Draco was much more affectionate in private than public.

Not that they spent much time in public.

"It's not that they'll be opposed," she argued. "Just ... it will take a minute for them to get used to the idea."

"I switched sides at the beginning of the war," he said petulantly. "I risked my life. I fought alongside all of them, against people I used to consider friends."

"Yes, I know, dear," she said patiently.

"No one minded me when I lived there. Why would they have such a problem with me now?"

"I'm the only girl, and I'm the youngest. The baby. Ron wasn't particularly thrilled when I dated Harry, if you remember, and they're best friends."

"I chose the wrong side, but I changed as quickly as possible. I made one mistake, and everyone still holds it against me," he complained.

Ginny was a Weasley. Her patience was short-lived. "It was hardly a small mistake, Malfoy," she said, stressing his name. "You were a Death Eater. You may not have done much harm while you were, but the fact – and the mark – remain. And we all remember the six years you were a giant prat to us all."

Draco rubbed his left arm, where the Dark Mark was still barely visible, faded from a tattoo to a scar. "Then why would you go and fall for the giant prat?" he muttered, grumpy.

"Who said I fell for you?" Ginny retorted playfully. "Perhaps I'm just having a good laugh. Perhaps you're simply Mr. Right Now."

Draco leaned toward her, his breath hot against her skin. "Right now, as in this very moment? Because it just so happens that works for me as well."

Ginny giggled as he began peppering her neck with kisses. "No, not right now, at least not here. Bare skin on a leather sofa? I don't think so."

"Then I suppose I'll have to remedy the situation," he whispered, and in one sudden, fluid movement, he stood and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

Ginny squealed and protested this decidedly undignified treatment all the way to his bedroom, where she soon stopped objecting entirely. Afterward, Draco returned to their earlier subject.

"So do you really think tonight will go alright?"

Ginny sat up, wrapping a sheet around her. "Merlin, Draco! I've never seen you so insecure. I much prefer you cocky."

"You prefer me cocky?" he repeated, grinning as he put the emphasis on the last word. "I think I can do cocky. Why don't you come back over here and I'll show you just how cocky I can be?"

"Oh, shut up," she snapped, though she laughed. "Tell me, does a talent for penis jokes run in the Black family?"

"What?" he sputtered.

"You, Sirius, and Tonks all have such filthy minds. I'm simply wondering if underneath that aristocratic exterior runs a vein of immaturity and gutter humor."

"First of all, I don't think you can use aristocratic in the same sentence as Sirius and Tonks. Secondly, as of about five minutes ago, you seemed very enthusiastic about my filthy mind."

"It wasn't the mind that called to me," Ginny replied silkily, reaching out to trace the well-defined stomach.

"What would your parents say if they could see you now, in bed with a Malfoy?" Draco asked.

"And the mood has been ruined." Ginny sighed as she climbed out of bed and began to dress. "Don't bring up my parents while we're in bed, Draco. If they saw me naked with any man, they wouldn't be pleased even if it was Merlin himself."

"Would naked with a woman be okay, then?"

Ginny laughed. "See what I mean? Filthy mind." Then she sighed. "Since you're so concerned, here's what's going to happen tonight. We'll tell them our news, and all will be quiet for a moment. My brothers will get that 'I want to hit someone' look, and –"

"My cousin will undoubtedly make some sort of ribald joke," Draco interjected dryly.

"Yes, most likely. Anyway, despite how they look, no one will hit anyone or anything, and they'll be happy for us. Remus or Luna will be the first to say something nice. And then it will be over."

"If you say so."

"I do. Besides, if all else fails, we can turn the attention to Charlie."

"Your brother? What's going on with him?"

"Nothing yet," Ginny replied. "I ran into Hermione in Diagon Alley and she told me she met Charlie. There's something going on between them, or I'm the Minister of Magic. We'll get them under the mistletoe again."

Draco laughed as he finished dressing. Ginny watched him with a fond smile as he fussed over which shirt to wear. _You can take the boy out of the manor, but you can't take the manor out of the boy._ His flat was evidence of that. Cleaned once a week by his mother's house-elf, it was spotless at all times, decorated in a black and white theme and filled with designer furniture. Very Malfoy.

"You know, that's the good thing about your family and all the others," he remarked.

"What's that?"

"There's always someone to deflect any sort of tension. The twins will make a joke, Tonks will embarrass Harry ..."

Ginny laughed. "Andromeda will scold her, Luna will bring up Wrackspurts or some other imaginary being, Hermione will try to dissuade her with logic ..."

"Tonks and Sirius will argue, as will your mother and Fleur, Percy will bore everyone to death ..."

"Mum will go on about Bill and Charlie's hair, Ron will talk with his mouth full, Hermione will tell him off, Hagrid and Charlie will drink too much and sing inappropriate songs ..."

"Your father will interrogate the Grangers on plugs, and Percy will suck up to Minister Shacklebolt," finished Draco.

"And no one will even notice Ginny and Draco," Ginny added. "Not to mention, Neville returns today."

"Does he? It's about time. How long has he been in America?"

"Six months," she replied. She pulled on her elegant boots and rose reluctantly. "I should go soon."

Draco turned around, raising his eyebrows. "Go? Why?"

"I want to stop by Bill and Fleur's," she explained. "Fleur's family leaves today, and I want to say goodbye to Gabi. And I still need to dress for the party."

"Why did you come here, then? Was this just a booty call?"

Ginny smirked. "Would you mind if it was?"

"Not at all. I simply want to know where I stand with you."

"Where you stand with me," Ginny repeated contemplatively. She took both his hands in hers. "I came here to make sure you weren't going to chicken out tonight." She grinned at his outraged look. "Anything else was a bonus. For the record, I like you out of bed as much as in. How's that?"

"Satisfactory," he answered, kissing her briefly before following her into the living room.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she took a handful of Floo powder. "I think I was more than satisfactory about fifteen minutes ago." They shared a smile. "Don't be late. We'll tell everyone after dinner, okay?"

Throwing down the Floo powder and shouting "Shell Cottage!", Draco's flat disappeared with a whirl, and a moment later, she spun out of the fireplace into Bill and Fleur's seaside home.

"Ginny?" Her eldest brother stepped forward, smiling. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to say goodbye to Gabi before the Delacours left. Am I too late?" She brushed herself off before hugging Bill.

"No, you're right on time. We don't leave for the Portkey for a while."

"Cutting it close, aren't you? Mum won't be pleased if you're late to the party."

"It's not even her party," Bill said dismissively. "But if she is, she is. Someday, Gin, you'll learn the joys of balancing the in-laws with your own parents."

"Just imagine how much more complicated it will get when you have kids, if you ever get around to it," she teased. Both their mother and Apolline Delacour had made very clear their desire for grandchildren in the years since Bill and Fleur married.

To her surprise, Bill didn't grimace like he normally did. "Yes, I'm sure it will be difficult," he said, looking positively delighted by the prospect.

Shrugging, she followed her tall brother into the kitchen, where the Delacours were sharing a cup of tea with their daughter. All were pleased to see her, and they chatted briefly before she gave hugs all around. Though several years younger, Fleur's little sister Gabrielle had taken a shine to Ginny, and the two were good friends. After one last "Au revoir!" Bill accompanied Ginny back to the living room.

"I wish I could stay, but I have to get ready for the party," she explained.

"So early? Have to look good for a hot date?" he asked good-naturedly.

"Maybe," she replied mysteriously.

Frowning, Bill immediately assumed a more appropriate older brother attitude. "Really?" he inquired. "Who?"

She winked as she stepped into the fireplace. "Guess you'll have to wait and see tonight."


	6. A Very Bill & Fleur Departure

**A Very Bill & Fleur Departure**

_Bugger._ Bill watched his sister disappear from his fireplace. A new boyfriend? That would make the evening interesting, to say the least, and Bill already had his own plans for the night.

Nevertheless, he grinned contemplatively as he strolled back toward the kitchen. He had to admit it was always fun trying to intimidate Ginny's boyfriends. He and his brothers, and Harry, who despite his own short relationship with Ginny now saw her as a sister, pretty much had it covered when it came to scary older brother.

There was Bill himself, who always casually mentioned the various ancient Egyptian curses he'd learned from working as a cursebreaker in the pyramids. He'd once threatened a boy with the 'Curse of Tutankhamen', though as far as he knew no such thing existed.

There was Charlie, who was rather visually intimidating with his muscular arms, covered in scars and tattoos. Potential suitors were never pleased to hear one of her brothers tamed dragons for a living.

There was Percy, who wasn't threatening in the least. But he worked at the Ministry, had the ear of the Minister himself, and it was always implied, by the others, that he could easily make a potential boyfriend disappear.

There were the twins, who Bill knew from experience could make life miserable if they chose. One never knew what was safe around Fred and George. Food, wands, hats – nothing was as it appeared. They had once dosed Ginny's boyfriend with one of their love potions and had him convinced for twenty-four hours he was in love with the portrait of Mrs. Black. Neither she nor Ginny were amused.

And Ron. Though Ron was probably the most overtly protective, he didn't necessarily possess many menacing qualities. But his best friend was Harry Potter, the man who had defeated Voldemort and now took down Dark Wizards for a living. That was enough.

Yes, Bill thought to himself gleefully as he headed for his wife's side, despite his wish for a happy evening, he was looking forward to 'getting to know' Ginny's date.

"Why did Ginny 'ave to leave so soon?" Fleur asked curiously.

"Apparently she has a date tonight," Bill said, grinning mischievously.

Fleur frowned. "Bill, please do not torture ze poor boy. I know what it is like to be disliked by ze family of your lover."

"But you stuck around and they love you now." Bill kissed her head, squeezing her shoulders. "Why should Ginny date someone who's scared away the first time he gets turned into a bird? I'm waiting for a man who'll stand up to us all."

"But is it fair to 'er?" Fleur countered. "Let Ginny make 'er own mistakes."

"I'm merely doing my duty as an older brother," Bill said. "It's in the code. I'm contractually obligated."

"Ze code?"

"The Code of the Big Brothers. It's unwritten, but we all know it."

Fleur laughed, a sound that had charmed Bill from the start. "You are going to be 'orrible when we have daughters, no?"

"I intend to be," he promised, and they shared a secret smile. "Are your parents ready? We should go soon if they want to make their Portkey."

"I believe so." Fleur walked to the bottom of the staircase and called up. "Maman! Avez-vous fini l'emballage?"

Fleur's mother answered, but as Bill's French was passable at best and only when spoken slowly, he couldn't figure out what she said. They continued to talk rapidly, and eventually Fleur walked upstairs. Shrugging, Bill began to search through their pile of presents underneath the Christmas tree for the two they had to bring tonight. They'd already exchanged with the Delacours and would with his family at the Burrow tomorrow, but for Harry's party everyone had drawn a name for a Secret Santa exchange.

He had Harry and Fleur had McGonagall, which would be interesting. It took him some time to dig out the correct presents underneath all those for his siblings. Bill smiled as he put the two wrapped boxes into a bag to take with them. He and Fleur had given each other their presents early, and one of them would be revealed to all tonight. Bill hadn't been this impatient for Christmas Eve to arrive since he was a small boy.

"Bill! We are ready to leave now." Fleur appeared around the corner, holding out his coat. "Allons-y! Ginny is not ze only one zat 'as a date, it appears."

"Oh? Gabi, who's the bloke?" he asked as a younger version of Fleur followed her big sister.

The French girl blushed. "Pierre. We go to Beauxbatons togezzer," she said in accented English. "We 'ave dinner tonight."

"Pierre. Sounds like one of those dashing French types. Does he have untamable dark hair and bright green eyes?" Bill teased her, referencing her longtime crush on Harry.

She blushed again. "Dark 'air, yes, but blue eyes. I 'ave given up on 'arry Potter, you know zat. She is very nice, 'is girlfriend."

"Bet you'd come running if he called."

"In a 'eartbeat."

"Gabrielle!" Fleur scolded, though a smile tugged at her mouth. "And William, do not encourage 'er. It is not becoming, to be so obvious."

"Ah, Fleur, we're just kidding. Harry already dated my sister. I don't think he wishes to repeat the experience."

"Yes, I am sure you are ze reason it did not work out," Fleur retorted.

"I'm sure as well," Bill said cheerfully. "That's why he went for Tonks. Only child and all."

"And not at all because she can look like Elle Macpherson or Kate Moss with a twitch of 'er nose."

"Not at all. It was because of me," said Bill seriously. "Anyway, Fleur, I think we need to make a trip across the Channel soon. As the closest thing to a brother that Gabi has, it's my duty to meet this Pierre and terrify him within an inch of his life."

"Ignore my 'usband," Fleur told her sister dismissively. "Bill is all talk."

"Not _all_ talk," he said in a low voice, kissing his wife's neck amid her giggles and Gabrielle's eye-rolling. However, he quickly stopped as footsteps sounded on the stairs.

After one more round of double checking the luggage, they apparated to the Ministry in London and headed for the Portkey office on the sixth level. Normally the Ministry operated Portkey field offices all across the country, but all were closed due to the holiday.

"Hello," Bill greeted the lone employee in the office as he checked the register. "Have to work Christmas Eve? Wife must be out of sorts."

"Paid double, so the missus don't mind none," the man mumbled around the unlit cigar that occupied his mouth. "Here we go. Delacour, party o' three, Portkey to Paris at half past. Better say yer goodbyes."

After a flurry of "Au revoir!" and "Je t'aime!" and hugs and kisses (Bill much preferred a hearty English handshake to his father-in-law's exuberant hugs), all three Delacours took hold of a large metal ring, awkwardly holding onto their luggage with their free hands, and then they were gone.

"Alright, love?" Bill asked his wife, taking her hand as they headed for the lift. Though they saw her family often, Bill knew living in England was hard on her.

"Never better, mon amour," she assured him, squeezing his hand.

"And you feel fine?"

"Never better." They smiled at each other again. "One set of parents down, one to go."

"Yes, and I'm so glad your mother isn't weepy like my own. You know Mum's going to burst into tears."

Fleur slyly glanced at Bill out of the corner of her eye as the lift began to ascend. "Per'aps it runs in ze family."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I recall spotting a tear or two at our wedding."

Bill looked wounded. "Were we at the same wedding? I did no such thing."

"If you say so," Fleur conceded in a sing-song voice that betrayed her true belief.

"You'll be the death of me, woman," Bill said, throwing an affectionate arm over her shoulders as they exited the lift. "I have a reputation to maintain, remember?"

Fleur merely leaned into his embrace, and they fell in step together. Halfway to the exit, Bill saw a man with brown hair and a round face seated near the bathrooms. "Neville?" he called.

The young man looked up in surprise. "Bill? Fleur? What are you doing here?"

"Just dropped Fleur's family off for their Portkey," Bill explained, shaking his hand. "You just get back? We must have just missed each other."

"I reckon so," Neville agreed, shyly returning Fleur's embrace.

"How was America, mate?"

"It was ... fulfilling," Neville said with a grin.

"Fulfilling?"

"Yeah, I –"

"We would love to hear about it, Neville, but we must go. We 'ave to go by our 'ouse before we 'ead to Grimmauld Place," Fleur interjected with an apologetic smile. "We will see you zere?"

"Of course. I'll tell you all about it tonight."

As they left, Neville resumed his seat on the bench. Bill furrowed his brow; he appeared to be waiting for someone, but Bill couldn't think of who. Well, perhaps his grandmother had met him. Letting it go, Bill followed his wife out the visitor's entrance, and they returned to Shell Cottage.

"Bill, please do not give your sister a difficult time tonight," Fleur pleaded as they changed. "No matter 'oo she is dating, even if it is ... Draco, for instance."

Bill laughed heartily. "Draco? Draco Malfoy? What in Merlin's name would my little sister want with him?"

"It was merely an example of someone 'oo might bother you. I do not want anyone upset when we tell our news."

"I promise I'll be the perfect gentlemen," Bill promised. He held out his arm. "Shall we go, Mrs. Weasley?"

She giggled girlishly. "Oui. I 'ave been waiting for tonight."


	7. A Very Neville Homecoming

**A Very Neville Homecoming**

Neville waved as Bill and Fleur headed for the exit, grateful they hadn't questioned him on why he was sitting alone outside the loo. He wouldn't have lied, of course, but he preferred to tell everyone at once. Not to mention his Gran would have kittens if anyone found out before her. Bad enough that Tonks already knew half of it.

Neville ran a hand through his hair, turning red at the mere memory of Tonks's visit to Washington halfway through his six-month tour on the international exchange program. He'd been misinformed about her arrival time and had learned a valuable lesson on locking charms when she walked into his office at the worst possible time.

"_My, Neville, how you've grown! Is that an Engorgement Charm, or –"_

"_Out, out, out!" Neville pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face._

"_Remember to wear a cloak when you visit her Restricted Section!" Tonks called through the door gleefully._

Tonks, of course, had found it hilarious while Neville himself had been unable to look her in the eye for her entire visit, even after she reminded him of the time she'd written a mock progress report intended for Harry's eyes only (in which she greatly praised his use of his 'wand') and it had gotten mixed in with the regular reports. But in the end she promised to keep quiet, and Neville could only hope she stuck to that.

"Okay, I'm ready." An attractive young blonde emerged from the ladies' room, taking Neville's arm when he stood up.

"Are you alright?" he asked anxiously. "Portkeys take a bit to get used to."

"I'm fine," she reassured him.

"If you're sure. We'll take a taxi to Gran's."

She grew quiet, and when they emerged from the visitor's entrance, he noticed she had paled. "Are you sure you're okay? We can sit down again."

"Oh, I feel fine. I'm not sick at all anymore. I'm just ... nervous. What if they don't like me?"

"Sarah, everything will be fine," Neville said soothingly. "They'll love you. I love you."

She smiled, dimpling. "It's just hard enough being different from everyone else on top of being the new person in such a tight-knit group, even if you have told me so much about them I feel as if I know them already."

"See? It's a start." Neville hailed a taxi and gave the driver his Gran's address once they climbed inside. "You'll probably know who is who as soon as you walk in the door."

"Well, I remember the pink-haired one clearly," Sarah said, grinning, and Neville flushed. "That's Tonks. She's your boss, right?"

"One of many."

"And she's seven years older than you, but she's dating Harry?"

Neville grinned. "Yes. They got together during the war, right after we left Hogwarts. I don't know if anyone knows exactly what happened between them. They went on a mission and came back glued at the hip. Haven't been apart since."

"And his best friend is Ron?"

"Since our first year at school." Neville shook his head. "It was kind of hard. There were five of us in the dorm, but they split into pairs, Seamus and Dean, Harry and Ron. I was a bit of a loner those first few years. Anyway, Ron's family practically adopted Harry. And Ron is dating Luna."

"Who used to be your girlfriend," Sarah teased him playfully.

Neville blushed. "Years ago. Everyone else was pairing off, so we tried to make a go of it. Only lasted a few months. She's ... different, you'll see. A great friend, just very ... Luna. But there was a war on, and, well, no one wants to die alone." Neville fell silent as the taxi drove along. He'd had some hard times during the war.

"But it's over, and you won, you told me all about it." Sarah squeezed his arm reassuringly, and Neville gave her a grateful smile.

"Yes, we did. Ron and Luna got together afterward. They're very much an odd couple, but it seems to work. She's good for him. He's not as insecure as he used to be. Luna's good at making you feel good about yourself."

"And Ron has a little sister named ... Jenny?"

"Ginny," Neville corrected. "She had a thing for Harry all through Hogwarts, but she's over it now. She plays Quidditch."

"The broom sport?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to recall everything he'd told her.

He smiled. "Yeah, I'll take you to a match sometime. I was never a huge Quidditch fan, but it's interesting."

"Sounds good. So who am I missing? Is it Ron and Jen- Ginny's family that's the huge one?"

Neville laughed. "Yes. Fred and George are the twins. They make me nervous."

"Why?" she asked innocently.

"They run a joke shop, and they're always trying out their products on unsuspecting friends." He laughed in remembrance. "In fifth year they turned me into a canary."

"A canary?" she repeated, green eyes widening. "Like, a bird?"

"They very one. But don't worry. I'm completely moulted."

"Well, I think I would have noticed if you had feathers hidden on you," she said playfully.

"Indeed," he agreed with a matching smile.

Her brief moment of levity dropped. "There's so much to learn about your life. I just feel overwhelmed."

He squeezed her hand. "No one will care if you don't know what a Blibbering Humdinger is."

"And what in the world is that?" she asked, laughing.

Neville frowned. "Well, that was a bad example, as I'm not sure anyone knows what that is."

"The Luna girl?"

"See? You're catching on already." Neville smiled at her before continuing. "So the twins date Angelina and Katie, but to be honest, I still have a hard time telling the twins apart so I'm not entirely sure who dates which girl. Sometimes I wonder if they've ever confused them. And there's Percy, who's very nice and all but on the dull side. He's married to Audrey, but I don't know much about her. And then Charlie –"

"Who works with _dragons_," Sarah said in awe. Neville nodded. "Does he have a wife or girlfriend?"

"No, but according to both Tonks and Ginny, he likes Hermione."

"And she's the one you liked in school."

Neville smiled as his cheeks colored. "Yes, but don't tell her. I don't think she ever knew. Hermione, Ron, and Harry have always been close. I always assumed she'd marry one of them."

"Is that all of the Weasels?"

Neville laughed. "Weasleys. And no, there's one more, Bill, the oldest. He's married to Fleur."

"And she's French." Sarah looked rather proud of herself at all she could remember.

"Yes. And there will be more people there, but those are the ones I spend the most time with. Oh! And Draco Malfoy." Neville shook his head. "To this day I can't believe I include Malfoy in that list."

"What's wrong with him?"

Neville hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain Draco Malfoy. "He ... was not a nice person when we were in school. In fact, I tried to fight him at a Quidditch match first year. It didn't go well for me. But in the end, he risked his life to fight on our side, so we all tolerate him now. It helps that he's Tonks's cousin. She plagues his life, but she's the first to come to his defense."

"I thought Sirius was Tonks's cousin? The one whose house we're going to?" Sarah asked.

"Well, he is, too. Most of the pureblood families are related in one way or another."

"I see," Sarah said quietly. Neville could see anxiety settling in again, so he merely put his arm around her and pulled her close for the rest of the ride.

He looked around London appreciatively as they went, eyes sharpened by absence. He had volunteered for the exchange program as soon as he heard about it, trying to distinguish himself. Harry normally got all the recognition out of their class of Aurors, not that he didn't deserve it, and so Neville had jumped at the opportunity to emerge from his shadow. He'd enjoyed working with the Americans and, looking at Sarah, knew he'd gotten more out of it than he'd ever expected.

However, England was home, and he'd missed it. He missed his Gran. He missed his parents, even if they didn't know him. He missed his friends, Harry and Ron and Ginny and Hermione. He even missed Tonks, despite her embarrassing penchant for rather lewd jokes or the high level of proficiency she demanded from her squad. Neville eagerly looked forward to the party, even if he knew much of the attention would be centered on him, and he was never terribly comfortable in the spotlight.

His reunion with his grandmother went much as expected. Never one for tears and gushing, she looked him over and said she was proud of him, something Neville treasured far more than hugs. When Neville and Sarah told their news, she was shocked, as expected, but she took it in stride, and she quickly took a shine to the young woman. It helped when they decided to have dinner with her. Neville knew the others would forgive him for being late to the party.

After Gran, being tired, decided not to accompany them to the party, Neville decided to apparate to Grimmauld Place, so he held firmly onto Sarah, and soon they appeared in the familiar grassy square.

"Whoa!" Sarah exclaimed, still clenching his arm tightly. "That was ... something. Fast. Uncomfortable, but I prefer it to the Portkey. Do you get used to it?"

"Yes," he assured her. "You don't feel sick, do you?"

"No, I'm fine. Well, nervous," she amended with a shaky laugh. "But fine."

Neville paused on the top of the steps, taking her face in his gloved hands. "I'll be honest - it will be overwhelming. But you're wonderful and they'll like you, and in this group you can always count on someone to say something strange or funny or inappropriate, probably all of the above, and take away some of the attention." He kissed her briefly. "Are you ready?"

She put on her best smile. "I'm ready."

Taking her hand in his, Neville rang the doorbell. _Here goes nothing,_ he thought. _It all leads to tonight._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: All will be revealed in the next (and last) chapter! I'd love to know what you all think their secrets are. Some are more obvious than others, I think.


	8. A Very Happy Christmas Eve

**A Very Happy Christmas Eve**

Harry gazed around the drawing room of Grimmauld Place with satisfaction. Though it was Sirius's house, Harry often took the lead when it came to gatherings, and as such he felt like it was his party.

The magically-expanded room was stuffed full. Kingsley and his wife sat near the fire with Professor McGonagall while his two young daughters played with the Hogwarts Express model train that circled the presents. Crookshanks crouched under Kingsley's chair, keenly eyeing the miniature broomsticks that flew around the tree.

Molly, Andromeda, Fleur, Remus, and both of Hermione's parents were in the kitchen cooking what would undoubtedly be a massive dinner. The Weasley men, minus Percy, were absorbed in a platter of sweets and pastries, apparently unconcerned with leaving room for the proper meal.

Near the window stood Luna and Hermione, the latter with an increasingly agitated look on her face. Harry chuckled to himself. He knew Hermione was fond of Luna despite her more ludicrous beliefs, but she never ceased to be exasperated by her. Angelina, Katie, and Ginny were close by, chatting loudly with wine glasses in hand.

In the middle of the room, Tonks and Sirius were dancing, for unknown reasons, as it wasn't that type of party and no one else accompanied them. But music played and so they danced, watched and mocked by Ted and Malfoy. Harry never could think of him as 'Draco.' Percy and his wife, Audrey, were somewhere in the crowd, for the room was filled with everyone from Dean to Oliver to Hagrid to Hestia.

Harry slowly made his way to Tonks as the song wound down, stopping to talk to this or that friend half a dozen times. By the time he reached her, she was seated in between her father and cousin, an arm around each of them.

"Did you come to claim my daughter, Harry?" Ted asked.

"Yes, somebody please take her," Malfoy drawled. "Anybody."

"At least someone wants me," she retorted, giving him a playful shove as she stood up. "I see you came alone."

"Malfoy's used to paying by the hour," Harry joined in, sliding his arms around her waist. "Reckon he couldn't find anyone willing to come for the entire evening."

"You know what? I don't have to take this abuse. I'm going to find more stimulating company, where the conversation occasionally strays above the level of fifteen-year-olds." Smiling sardonically, Draco moved into the crowd, and Harry took his seat, pulling Tonks with him, grateful to be off his feet for a moment.

"Are you having a good night, love?" she asked.

"Yes, and everyone else seems to be as well. Fred was particularly enjoying moving the mistletoe to wherever Luna happened to be standing. She, of course, walked away every time she noticed."

"Nargles," Tonks told her father casually.

"Of course," he agreed pleasantly before furrowing his brow in confusion. "What's –"

"Don't ask," Tonks and Harry said together.

"Have you seen Neville?" she asked him.

Harry shook his head. "No, he hasn't arrived yet."

"Well, I know he wanted to see his grandmother first, so perhaps they stopped there for a bit."

"They?" Harry repeated. "What do you mean 'they'?"

Tonks immediately adopted an innocent expression. "Haven't the slightest idea. Slip of the tongue."

"What do you know?" he demanded, much like his godfather that morning.

"I don't know anything."

"Don't make me pry it out of you, Nymphadora."

"Don't _call_ me Nymphadora, Harry." She scowled, then lifted her chin haughtily. "Go ahead. Give me your worst. I can take it like a woman. You should know that by now."

"Yes, I know that very well," Harry murmured, leaning in for a kiss. Ted cleared his throat, and both Harry and Tonks jumped. "Sorry, sir. Come on, Dora, you know you can't keep a secret to save your life."

"You know damn well that's not true," she muttered, a shadow crossing her face, referring to one of the darker periods of the war. A time Harry remembered very well, for it was when he realized he was in love with her.

"I know, I'm sorry," he said, immediately contrite.

"So Neville's the one who went on the exchange program to the states?" Ted asked after an uncomfortable silence.

Tonks brightened. "Yes, and I'm desperate to have him back. Not only was his replacement nowhere near Neville's skill level, but he had the most annoying habit of calling me 'darling.' As in, 'Ya'll got any sweet tea 'round here, darlin'?' Like I wasn't his boss. Git. I wanted to 'darling' his arse all the way across the Atlantic."

"Well, he's gone now, and you're well rid of him," Harry said. "And on that note, I should go fulfill my duties as host and mingle. Come with?"

Tonks shook her head. "No, I'll stay here so Dad can keep me out of trouble. Go mingle."

"See you for dinner, then."

"Stay away from the Nargles!" she called at his retreating figure.

Waving his hand in acknowledgement, Harry strayed to the Shacklebolts, where he discussed making some changes to the Auror training schedule with Kingsley. Sometimes Harry still couldn't believe he was on a first-name basis with the Minister of Magic. When he noticed Percy heading their way with a very determined look, Harry made a hasty excuse and slipped back into the crowd. Approaching the front of the room, he overheard one of the twins say something to Sirius that caught his attention.

"So what did you need those canary creams so badly for? Should I be afraid to eat?"

"No, no, the food here is fine," Sirius assured them. "Tonks annoyed me this morning, so I needed to get her back and didn't have time to come up with anything more elaborate."

George grinned. "I thought she'd have cottoned on to you by now, Sirius."

Sirius looked guilty. "Well, to get her to eat the pastry I concealed them in, I offered them to Remus first. He wasn't too pleased later."

"Later?"

"That was the best part," Sirius said with a rather proud grin. "I first cast a variation of an immobilizing charm to make the canary cream time-delayed. A fuse, if you will. So neither turned into a bird right away."

"And that's how it went from bad to worse," Harry chimed in.

"I was going to say good to better," Sirius disagreed.

Harry fixed him with a look. "You would. See, Tonks wasn't transfigured until she was in the shower." He waited a beat before continuing. "With me."

The twins immediately burst into loud laughter, startling Hestia and Hermione, who were nearby. "You weren't, ah ... _busy_, were you?" Fred gasped through his guffaws.

"Do I look scarred for life?" Harry retorted.

All three stared at him before George leaned forward, speaking conspiratorially. "Mate, I think it's time you were told. There's an odd mark on your forehead. Very visible. Been there since you were a baby."

Harry held up his hands. "Right, right, I set myself up for that. But no, we were not ... _busy_, thank God. It was weird enough."

They shared a laugh before the twins converged on Sirius, asking about his modification to their product. Leaving them to their business, which would no doubt be tested first on themselves and then unsuspecting friends before hitting the shelves, Harry wandered around the room until he met Tonks and her mother at the doorway.

"We're nearly ready," Andromeda was saying. "I just needed to step away for a moment. It's a bit crowded down there."

"Do you need any help, Mum?" Tonks asked. "I can make something."

"Sweetheart, the only thing you can make are dinner reservations," Andromeda said matter-of-factly. "Hello, Harry."

Harry laughed, stopping in between the two Tonks women. "She's got you there, Dora. Neville still not here?"

Andromeda shook her head while her daughter answered. "No, but Bill said they saw him at the Ministry, so I know he arrived. Reckon he just got caught up at his grandmother's."

Just then, Molly appeared behind Andromeda, drying her hands on a dish cloth. "Harry, the food is ready if you want to announce dinner."

Dinner proved to be barely controlled chaos. Bit by bit, all filed through the kitchen filling their plates. Both the dining room and kitchen tables were soon full, and the remnants occupied the drawing room, vying for seats and pulling up floor space. Kreacher and Dobby did their best to keep everyone supplied with second and third helpings, and by the time the plates were empty, Harry was sure even Ron couldn't eat another bite.

Harry sat on the floor of the drawing room in front of Tonks, who lounged in an arm chair. "Uughh ..." she moaned, massaging her stomach. "I ate sooo much."

"Glutton," said Sirius from the sofa next to Remus.

"I'd think of a cutting and witty comeback, but I'm too full," Tonks replied sleepily. She regarded her empty wineglass. "Who do I have to shag to get a refill around here?"

On cue, Draco returned with a new bottle of wine. Harry glanced up at Tonks, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, this is going to make things a bit awkward," she said, ruffling his hair with a wink.

"How can we possibly be related?" asked Draco as he obligingly refilled her glass before sitting next to Ginny.

"You're just lucky that way," she told him.

Gradually the room filled up again. In a very relaxed, informal manner, Secret Santa presents were exchanged, ranging from touching to practical to funny. The house-elves made quick work of the wrapping paper, except for some bits of ribbon with which Kingsley's girls teased the cat.

Harry made his way around the room once more, thanking everyone for their attendance, and one by one guests began to leave, giving those who remained some breathing room. He eventually returned to Tonks, who was arguing with Sirius about her gift that he still withheld.

"Give it here, Sirius," she entreated. "Everyone else has theirs, and I'm dying to open it."

Sirius appeared to contemplate the possibility before shaking his head, holding the small bag out of her reach, though both knew she could simply make herself taller if she really wanted. "Tonks, do you really reckon you made the nice list this year?"

"Oh, I think I made both lists. You know, naughty and nice."

"Both?" Remus queried. "How can you make both?"

She winked at Harry with a rather wicked grin. "Well, I've been told that when I'm naughty, it's very, very nice."

"Well, ho, ho, ho," remarked Ginny drolly, her inflection leaving no doubt she wasn't referring to Santa Claus.

Everyone laughed. "I'll make you a deal," said Sirius. "Tell me what you and Harry were whispering about this morning, and I'll give you your present."

Harry raised his eyebrows in question at Tonks, and she nodded, eyes sparkling with excitement. With an equally eager grin, Harry stood, clearing his throat as he prepared to get the attention of all. Just as he opened his mouth, there was a distinct commotion at the front of the room. By the sound of it, their missing friend had returned.

With a smile, Harry grabbed Tonks's hand and pulled her along with him. Finally managing to slip in between Fred and Angelina, Harry came to a sudden stop, apparently just like everyone else, for there was a clear open space around the young man.

Yes, Neville had finally returned. But he wasn't alone. Holding his hand and smiling shyly was a petite blonde woman.

Unconcerned with the startled stares of the rest of the group, Tonks slipped out of Harry's grasp and moved forward to give Neville a tight hug. "Neville! It's about time, mate, I was getting ready to send out a search party." And then, to Harry's utmost surprise, she turned to Neville's companion and hugged her as well. "Sarah, right? How are you?"

"Good, thank you," the girl said, looking rather surprised at Tonks's welcome.

"You knew?" Harry blurted out. "You knew he was bringing someone home."

Tonks grinned smugly. "And you thought I couldn't keep a secret."

"Actually, she doesn't quite know the entire story," Neville spoke up for the first time. He put his arm around the woman's waist and pulled her closer. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Sarah. My wife."

If Harry hadn't been so astonished, he could have heard the proverbial pin drop. Neville, married? Neville, married _unexpectedly_? He glanced at Tonks, and the way her mouth hung open proved she hadn't known the extent of their relationship.

"We married a few weeks ago," Neville continued uncomfortably. "So, er, surprise?"

"_You_ eloped?" Malfoy blurted out.

"I think it's brilliant," said Ginny warmly, stepping forward to hug both. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom."

Neville's wife (that was going to take some getting used to) beamed, the new name still clearly a thrill to hear. "Thank you. Neville has told me so much about you all, I feel like I know you already."

"Wish we could say the same," began Fred, who quelled under a glare from his mother.

Remus stepped forward, handing them both a glass of wine. "I think this deserves a toast." Harry nodded at Dobby, and in short order both house-elves made sure everyone had a glass.

Sarah was staring at Kreacher, her mouth slightly ajar. "Is this one of those elf things you told me about?" she asked Neville interestedly. "Do all wizards have them?"

Everyone glanced up, surprise the most prominent emotion once again. What an odd question to ask. She made it sound like wizards were a new, unfamiliar concept, which could only mean –

"Why, you're a Muggle!" Arthur declared excitedly, only to be quelled in a manner much like his son minutes earlier.

Harry shook his head to clear it. Neville Longbottom had eloped with an American Muggle. What had happened to the chubby, stuttering first-year with a penchant for forgetfulness? Noticing that Sarah was looking increasingly uncomfortable, Harry quickly raised his glass. "It's great, Neville. I'm so happy for you both. To Neville and Sarah Longbottom – welcome to the family!"

"To Neville and Sarah!" everyone cheered, lifting their glasses in salute before taking a sip, though Harry noticed Fleur didn't drink any.

"Thank you, everyone," Neville said, ducking his head. "It's great to be home and even better to bring Sarah with me."

The newlyweds were mobbed with hugs and exclamations of congratulations. Harry caught Tonks again, unsure if it would be right to divert some of the attention.

"I don't want to wait anymore," she whispered.

"Nor do I, but is it fair to Neville?" he whispered in return.

"I know, but we've been planning this since last night."

"Right. I really can't keep it any longer."

"What are you two whispering about?" Sirius demanded above the commotion. "Tonks, are you pregnant? Is that what you and Harry have been on about all day?"

Suddenly the attention wasn't on Neville anymore.

"Seeing as I've been drinking wine all evening, I certainly hope not," Tonks replied tartly, waving her glass in reminder.

"But since you brought it up," Harry began, seeing Tonks slip her left hand into her pocket. "Dora and I are getting married."

"Harry proposed last night!" Tonks exclaimed, beaming as she held up her hand, now adorned with a diamond ring on a very significant finger.

And now Harry and Tonks were the center of the mob. He had no idea who was shaking his hand or slapping him on the back or hugging him so hard he couldn't breathe, but from all the shouts in his ear, he gathered the general consensus was one of joy. He caught a glimpse of the smiling faces of Ted and Andi, who of course already knew, and the teary eyes of Molly as she managed to hug both him and Tonks at the same time. Ron, he noticed in puzzlement, looked rather out of sorts.

"STAG NIGHT!" roared Fred and George.

Harry glanced at Tonks, grinning. "No strippers?" she offered.

"No strippers."

She turned to Katie and Angelina. "HEN NIGHT!" they squealed.

Sirius was gripping their shoulders so hard it hurt, a wide grin splitting his face. Harry caught Tonks's hand in his and squeezed, sharing a smile they reserved only for each other. He still found it hard to believe she was going to be his wife. _Mrs. Dora Potter._ It had a nice ring to it, he thought.

Bill cleared his throat. "Tonks may not be pregnant," he called above the rabble, and everyone quieted, sensing yet another announcement. "But Fleur is."

"About eight weeks, we believe," his wife said as they slid their arms around each other and grinned with pride.

This time the uproar was nearly deafening. Molly immediately burst into tears, crying something about "my baby!" into Bill's shoulder while Arthur looked completely gobsmacked, as if he'd never considered the idea. Tonks glanced at Harry with such a gleam in her purple eyes that he felt he might need to warn her not to get any ideas.

"Well, this is just such a wonderful Christmas present," Molly said when they quieted, wiping her eyes. "Babies and weddings ... I simply don't know if I could take any more."

The twins stepped forward, Katie and Angelina at their sides. "Well then, Mum, you might want to sit down," said George.

"No babies!" Angelina clarified hastily, for Molly had paled.

"No, of course not. It's just that Angelina and I –"

"– and Katie and _I_ –"

"– have decided to move in together," finished Fred.

Everyone hesitated at this, looking at Molly, a traditionalist at heart, for her reaction, but they needn't have worried. Her smile and words were nothing but pleased. "That's wonderful, dears. I'm so happy you're making things more official."

Everyone else had just begun to congratulate the couples when Molly's voice was heard again.

"And I don't know why you were all so uncertain about my reaction," she continued wryly. "As if Arthur and I don't know each and every one of you have been shagging under our noses. That broom shed has seen more action than a tart in Soho."

Neville spit a mouthful of wine directly in the face of Percy, who was so stunned he simply let the red liquid drip off his face. Remus started coughing repeatedly until Malfoy thumped him on the back. Ron's face turned as red as his hair, and he determinedly looked away from Luna. Tonks (who had introduced Harry to the Weasley broom shed) burst into hysterical giggles before clapping her hand over her mouth.

Apparently Molly wasn't done. "I do have seven children, you know. Why, Arthur and I –"

"But since our flat is on the small side for even just the two of us," Fred interjected loudly. "We're moving out of there as well."

Harry was grateful for the quick change of subject, and by the looks of the others, he wasn't the only one. "So the flat above the shop will be empty?" Ron asked.

"No, little bro, we're switching every other night," George replied sarcastically, and Ron flushed.

"Hey, I might have need for that, if you don't mind," Charlie spoke up.

"What? Why would you need a flat in London?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Because I'm transferring to the reserve in Wales. I can easily appa-"

Whatever else Charlie was going to say was cut off as Hermione threw herself at him so hard he stumbled backward a few steps, kissing with an unabashed enthusiasm that Harry had rarely seen her display for anyone or anything except one of her causes, like SPEW. Clearly Charlie reciprocated, returning the kiss with such fervor Harry wondered if he realized anyone else was in the room.

At least half of the onlookers burst into catcalls and whistles, laughing. Molly and Arthur looked well pleased, and Harry agreed; they were a good match. Tonks could be heard above everyone else, claiming someone owed her ten galleons.

Finally they parted, breathless, and Hermione looked shocked to see over a dozen smiling faces watching her. "Er ... mistletoe," she murmured, blushing and trying to hide her face in Charlie's shoulder.

"But the mistletoe is across the room," Luna said innocently, pointing, and the laughter only increased.

Just then, Ginny caused a small disturbance, pushing her way through the crowd until she stood next to Malfoy. "Might as well get this over with," Harry heard her mutter before she wound her hands in Malfoy's blond hair and pulled him down for a kiss that, if Harry had to guess by the familiarity, was not their first.

And he thought the room was quiet when Neville made his announcement. He couldn't even hear breathing. All six of Ginny's brothers took a step toward the apparent couple, faces grim and ears reddening.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Ron demanded.

"Clearly, we're dating, Ronald," Ginny snapped acerbically.

"And how long has this been going on?" Bill said. His tone was neutral, but his face didn't look anything near delighted.

"About three months," Malfoy answered.

"Since you moved out." Sirius vocalized the realization Harry had just come to, grudging admiration showing in his voice. "Clever."

"I'd say sneaky," said Fred.

"Just like a Slytherin," added George.

Charlie narrowed his eyes. "Exactly how did this happen?"

"You know what they say about the broom shed," Tonks volunteered, a grin tugging at her mouth, and the Weasleys' glares deepened.

"Thank you for that, Nymphadora," Malfoy said dryly. "Always a help."

"I do my best," she replied cheekily. "But if you call me Nymphadora again I'll morph to look like you and hit on Stan Shunpike."

Ginny's face matched her brothers'. "This isn't up for discussion. I kept it a secret because I knew you would react like children, but I'm tired of it."

"I think it's wonderful." As one, all faces swiveled to Sarah as she spoke for the first time since Neville introduced her. "I mean, if they want you to know even if they are aware you might not approve, they must be serious." She flushed under the attention.

"Sarah's right," said Arthur, and everyone turned to him like they were watching a tennis match. "Ginny's an adult and can make her own decisions. As long as Mal-, as long as Draco makes her happy, we should all leave well enough alone."

"I can take care of myself," Ginny said, looking at each brother in turn. "You should all know that by now."

Luna piped in dreamily. "And if it helps, they're thinking clearly. No Wrackspurts in sight."

There was a very pregnant pause before the entire group burst into side-splitting laughter. Luna, Harry reflected, might appear to be in her own world, but sometimes she had remarkable timing. It was just the thing to ease the tension, and as the Weasleys backed down, clapping Draco on the shoulder or nodding in resigned approval, Harry discreetly got Dobby's attention, making sure full glasses were passed out again.

"It's been quite an evening, and I think it's time for another toast," he said, earning everyone's undivided attention. He held up his wine glass, and many more followed suit.

He gazed around the room. Draco and Ginny stood with their arms around each other. Charlie and Hermione were hand in hand, as were Neville and Sarah. Katie sat in George's lap on the sofa, while next to them Angelina perched on Fred's. Bill stood behind Fleur, slipping his arms around her waist. Ron sat on the arm of Luna's chair, one arm over her shoulders. Ted and Andi, Arthur and Molly, the Grangers, and others were gathered around the fringes of the room. And when Tonks slid under Harry's waiting arm, winding hers around his waist, he was perfectly happy.

"To the return of old friends and the welcoming of new. To surprises and new beginnings. To our ever expanding family and our always entertaining gatherings. Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas!" everyone echoed, a happy smile on every face.

"Best. Christmas Eve. Ever," Tonks whispered into Harry's ear, kissing his cheek.

The night held one more surprise. Setting his glass on a table, Ron stood up, running a hand over his hair. Before anyone could say anything, he pulled a box out of his pocket and dropped to one knee, revealing a shiny ring.

"Luna, will you marry me?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>And that's it! Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed this little Christmas present. Have a very happy Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Festivus/New Year's/Hogmanay/holiday season in general!


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